Prophet's Disciple
by Houzuki Suigetsu
Summary: The child prodigy in the art of murder becomes a Jashinist. Alternate Universe. It's not the most 'romantic' adventure. Many risque moments, yes. The explicit chapters won't be posted on this site. Main pairing: HidanXSuigetsu. Other pairings included.


Prophet's Disciple

Chapter 1: Sixty-Seven Dead

'I wouldn't under-estimate me if I were you, Kisame.'

The boy was fairly small in relation to his towering opponent. Pale strands covered his forehead in a choppy fringe, violet eyes nearly glistening in excitement beneath. However, it wasn't the shark they were fixated on but the great weapon he was holding over his shoulder. The Samehada. Oh, how Suigetsu coveted that sword. It wasn't the only one he wanted -- there were five others still to collect, one of which he had managed to obtain already, even if it had literally been lifted from his own predecessor's grave. He wanted them all, and it just so happened that the Samehada was next on his list because it was the most readily available at the moment.

There was no doubt in his mind that he could kill this Kisame guy. While he warned others against 'under-estimating' him he had an inborn flair for completely over-estimating his own abilities. One could not deny his skilful swordsmanship either, of course, nor those eccentric water-based jutsu that no one knew if he had inherited through a bloodline limit or had manifested during his captivity with the Snake Sannin. It was likely it could have been the latter as Orochimaru had experimented on this former Mist ninja extensively. The Otokage had been known for producing freaks of nature. Still, it was assumable that the mouth full of razor piranha teeth was all natural.

Suigetsu was not anywhere near large enough in stature to be compared to a shark, but the blue-faced man who was staring him down resembled one to the fullest. He even had gills and similar sharp teeth, a trait that many believed was common in the Hidden Mist. The smaller boy reminded him of another man he had known once before, Mangetsu, who had been the elder brother of the sword-coveting piranha. They were of the Hozuki clan, and that Kisame had successfully killed the older of the two, he was confident that the younger would be even less of a challenge. That he carried himself with no class or tact made that apparently obvious.

'Under-estimate you? Why, I would never,' said Kisame, keeping a severe look of menace even in his condescending sarcasm. 'I just hope that you're able to live by your own words. As they say, pride comes before a fall, and your head as I see it is disproportionate for your body. It makes it a much easier target to hit. Your brother, Mangetsu, he had a large head, too.' A smirked formed over those shark features. Oh, he was really getting him now.

Suigetsu only returned the expression, appearing to shrug these insults off cool-headedly. 'You'd be one to talk when your own is so huge that by the time I decapitate you, just your head will be enough to dine on for a week. Oh, yes, an extremely easy target -- impossible to miss. I'll have you know that I've beheaded sixty-seven men within days once. What makes you think you're any match for one with my killing reputation? I'm the second Zabuza. You have no clue who you're dealing with, dearest. Take your own advise and don't let your pride hasten your fate. Either way, I shall kill you -- and that sword? It's mine already.'

'A child prodigy in the art of murder. So, I've heard.' Kisame shook his head and exposed his own fangs in a brief, yet intently sadistic grin. 'Even if you do miraculously kill me somehow and take my weapon… who says the Samehada would even have a meaningless coward such as yourself? It chooses its owner and you aren't fit to wield it, _dearest_.' He used a deliberately mocking tone, fed up with this little boy's desperate efforts to seem tough. Even for a sixteen-year-old that Hozuki must have had the maturity level of a baby fish.

Nevertheless, even as Kisame looked down on this 'prodigious murder' with disdain, another man was eyeing them from a short distance, and had taken a considerable amount of interest in the conversation. He was not a descendant of the Mist like the arguing pair, but as an ally to the shark in the organization called Akatsuki, he was also quite the killer in his own name. In fact, he abided by a religion that exalted nothing but utter destruction and carnage. And as he idly toyed with the rope attached to the end of his three-bladed scythe, he snickered in a perverse manner, awaiting to see how this reputed child of murder fared against the Monster of the Mist. If the boy was as deadly as he claimed, he would inevitably have plans of his own for him soon enough. It was such a pity those fish-faced freaks had to keep yapping instead of getting down to business. The scythe man didn't have the time on his hands to sit around and wait for this battle to ensue, as he had his own wars to fight, especially an imminent one against a heathen who would be wanting revenge on him for one of his sacrifices. But in his mind, one man dead was nothing to gloat over. _Sixty-seven dead_, he thought, _within days to top it off. Seriously noteworthy._

Regardless, Suigetsu never saw the predator checking him over in the background. He was being evaluated, but he would not have wielded his sword any differently had he been aware. If he had known better, he would have forfeited to the shark and taken defeat like a man, for what was in store for him with the Reaper was a fate he would have never yielded to if it weren't for his desperation.

'I shall kill you now if you want,' he said, directing his eyes to Kisame's and grinning in a haughty manner. 'Tonight, I shall have shark fin soup for dinner.'

Within seconds, he had drawn out his sword, which was not his really as it had belonged to the Demon of the Mist, Zabuza. And as Suigetsu wasn't even above grave-robbing his own former mentor, making claims to eat people wasn't uncharacteristic of a boy with such a lack of honour or morals. That combined with the relentless sword theft itself would have undoubtedly ranked him among the likes of the Akatsuki, and in possessing the unnatural ability to liquefy his body completely, he definitely fit in -- those S-ranked criminals were all monsters, cannibals, terrorists, assassins and freaks of nature in one form or another.

However, he was not one of those guys. He belonged to his own team, and even as he attempted a fast swing at one of Kisame's shoulders, he could tell even without looking that his leader wasn't pleased with the altercation. Of course, he didn't see why Sasuke would have any right to hinder him in his conquest of the Samehada. It was the sole reason why he had gone along with team Hebi in the first place. Maybe he knew once his subordinate achieved his goal, he would leave, and he would have rather kept him by his side. Suigetsu entertained such possibilities; he had always had a slight fancy for the dark-haired boy, even as he was secretly plotting to behead him along with the other two team mates. But he wouldn't have been against having his way with him at least once prior to that execution.

Though, just as his advances towards his leader had always been eluded, his first attempt at injuring the shark had also failed. In fact, it had been retaliated fairly quickly with that coveted weapon, the Samehada, and just barely missed hitting Suigetsu's neck right before he toppled over onto his backside with a loud thud. There was no telling how the lurking Reaper had evaluated this apparent weakness. The resonating laugh of Kisame amplified a would-be defeat, but Suigetsu was back on his feet in no time, only to be knocked down again even faster. He growled in agitation, deciding that he would begin to melt to increase his chances of winning, for if Kisame couldn't hit him he wouldn't have to keep falling over and over. But just as his body began to take on a waterier form, he felt a sudden jolt that forced him to shift back to solid.

'Not now, Mizugetsu.' It was his leader's voice this time, and what had shocked the melting water-nin was a small dose of chidori that had been transmuted through his own blade, the sword of Kusanagi. There was no doubt that Suigetsu might have sought to steal this weapon eventually as well.

'Not now -- WHY?' asked Suigetsu in an agitated tone, giving Kisame a dirty look that suggested he should be grateful that his fate had been halted.

'Because, you need to conserve your energy. And I won't have you killing your victim before I get to mine.' With that, the Hebi leader's attention drifted to another man that bore a striking semblance to his own appearance. It was his beloathed older brother, one who he had sworn to kill many years ago.

Suigetsu rolled his eyes at being told he needed to 'conserve' his energy, but inwardly he was tickled by the thought of Sasuke displaying such a concern for his well-being. Needless to say, it still didn't mean that he would falter from his scheme to kill him when the time called for it. He was just that depraved. Nothing could ever avert his mind from murder once he had decided someone should die. And unlike the Hebi leader, who wanted to issue revenge against his brother for massacring their whole clan, Suigetsu never thought of his own brother at all -- not in remembrance nor hatred. It was as though Mangetsu had never lived. Even when Kisame had brought up the name, it didn't strike a single chord in the boy.

Likewise, he couldn't have cared less about Sasuke and his sibling rivalry, and aside from being smitten with the boy's looks to some extent, he hated him with a passion, particularly during times like this when he was prevented from executing his opponents. He had been told to never kill unless instructed, and this maddened him to no end. The Hebi leader had been aware of this Mist ninja's ruthless killing habits, no less, but unbeknownst to him he was also on that killer swordfish's hit list. It was just a matter of time.

Exhausted immeasurably, Suigetsu opted to heed the advise to conserve his energy and trailed off to partake in one of the most gratifying things in the world -- water. He always had a few bottles of it close at hand, for his liquid-based anatomy required consistent hydration. Whenever he liquefied, as he had done in his conflict with Kisame moments ago, it took a lot out of him and he needed to replenish. Biting on the straw a little, he drew in the cold liquid, careful to not puncture the plastic with one of those sharp teeth. So absorbed was he in his drink that he never noticed the man with the scythe sneak up from behind, not until his eyes set on the hand clasped to his shoulder; nails painted black. All of the Akatsuki had them painted for some reason and they all wore rings bearing different symbols. This one had the insignia of a San on his left index finger.

'Sixty-seven dead?' said the silver-haired Reaper, with a nearly clever-looking smirk. He was far from witty but the way he presented himself he didn't require vast intellect to radiate an intimidating persona.

'Yes, sixty-seven,' Suigetsu retorted, casting a look of contempt to this apparently nosy individual. 'What's it to you?' He then knitted his brows in a brief scowl in observance to the man's Akatsuki uniform. 'Unless you're siding with that retarded shark and don't think I'm capable of it. Well, I'll have you know--' Suddenly feeling a palm over his mouth, temper flared and he bit it, not caring if he caused this guy to bleed. In fact, the taste of plasma would only send him into one of those piranha-like killing frenzies, and then he couldn't be blamed for the other's death.

'Ow, that hurt.' He drew his hand away rather quickly, but a morbidly delighted expression alit the Reaper's features. 'You talk too fuckin' much, seriously. I never said you couldn't do it. I'd be impressed if you did. But I never got to see you make soup out of Kisame. You would really eat a guy you killed?'

The thought intrigued him somehow. He had never known anyone to display cannibalistic tendencies, aside from a man in their ranks who was a carnivorous plant hybrid. A part of him was leaning towards the notion that this boastful boy liked bluffing a lot. After all, even with all the bragging he had done, he'd still been knocked on his ass at least twice. This didn't necessarily have to mean he was ineffective, but not as tough as he seemed to want others to think.

'When I kill him -- I do intend on eating his carcass. Perhaps I should even eat you to demonstrate my capacity?' Razor teeth were exposed in a broad grin, eyes glinting sadistically. He was always one for issuing his threats light-heartedly.

'Ha, eat me? You'd have to kill me first and that's something I'd just love to see you do.' He countered that grin with one of his own, and without a second's hesitation, grasped the younger male's arm, pulling him closer. 'But seriously, how would you go about eating someone -- who can never become a carcass?'

Suigetsu resisted the pull, though his arm remained captured nonetheless. 'That doesn't follow. Everyone dies, especially when I cut their heads off. And I don't only behead them -- I remove all of their limbs first so that they may stare in the face of their killer, knowing they can do nothing but await decapitation. Sixty-seven were killed this way, and I didn't even have a magnificent sword then yet. What makes you think you're any different?'

'Believe me, you'd be shocked.' He emphasised on the word 'shocked' in particular after having witnessed how little it took for the Hebi leader to jolt this infamous murderer into submission. Then he snickered in a depraved way and released the limb, keeping a close eye on the homicidal specimen. It was common knowledge that most people were unaware of his immortality. 'Except, as much it'd be against my beliefs to turn down a fight, I think I'd rather _show you _something instead…' The tone was deliberately teasing, though he stepped aside, keen on seeing the reaction. 'How would you like to see my secret weapon?'

'You mean other than that pathetic-looking stick with three blades?'

'It's a scythe, bitch. And, yes.' The three-bladed 'stick' in question might have not looked fierce in comparison with the swords others carried, but in reality it was a tool for invoking one of the deadliest jutsu in existence. 'Do you want to see it or no?'

The water boy frowned, not in the least pleased with having been cussed out. Though, he gave a nod, exhaling in relief now that the other's form was relatively further from his own. He didn't know why precisely, but this guy had a strange way of provoking him in a manner that he hadn't yet decided if he liked, almost akin to how his leader often did. Of course, Suigetsu just mentally scripted this scythe man onto his hit list as well, but the prospect of seeing the weapon fascinated him immensely. Maybe he would steal it. Someone who made claims of 'never becoming a carcass' must have had a towering ego. And as many knew -- pride always came before a fall.

'Hopefully you don't intend on taking too long. I have another fish to cook.' He grinned now, hardly concerned if Sasuke knew that he had gone off to inspect the weaponry of one those Akatsuki guys.

He was busy trying to kill his brother as of now, and in the distance a couple of masked men appeared to be viewing the battle with intense interest.

'Only long enough to _corrupt _you,' said the Reaper, whose name Suigetsu hadn't caught yet.

They were heading down a path, side by side while it was the younger of the two who kept a careful eye on that scythe he had insulted, not knowing where this was supposed to lead.

'Corrupt?' In an instant his mind went to the gutter.

Beginning to think he was about to be seduced by this stranger, it was now his turn to evaluate the man in order to decide if he would allow it. As far as appearances went he was a looker, no doubt. He wore his hair combed back neatly, and even a hint of a necklace could be seen, as his cloak was open partially in the front, shirtless chest visible to the world as though he wanted all to acknowledge his stunning looks. And with such an apparent tendency to lure in whomever caught his eye, he must have been an active one. Even those constant smirks and perverted expressions marked a wolf on the lurk. The way he spoke so obscenely. Suigetsu had a hard time keeping his eyes off of this predator once he started gawking him over, and the more he gawked, the more his mind spiralled down that gutter to where he was seriously considering to go along with the other's proposition. Judging by the man's stature and assertive attitude, he could tell he was the in-charge type. And the way these thoughts were going, he entertained the notion of his 'weapon' being one he would have no objections to being impaled by. Over and over and over even.

As his pulse raced quicker due to these perverse thoughts, he felt his complexion develop a dampness akin to perspiration. Nevertheless, it was but water, as his body had a reflexive way of secreting it and practically melting on its own at any sign of increase to overall heart rate. As such whenever an attack was launched on him that caused it to elevate significantly, he would splatter upon impact. Thus, even his own fear tended to work in his favour. But he was hardly afraid now, and he mused that perhaps relieving his tension in such an intimate tussle could leave him better prepared for his battle with Kisame. That is, unless this scythe-wielder was purposely attempting to sway his judgement and manipulate him into forsaking the battle altogether. What little he did know of the Akatsuki organization, however, reminded him that very few of them actually got along well enough to in all honesty defend one another this way. Although, he knew nothing of this one, nor had he ever heard of him from the Hebi leader. Only Kisame and Itachi did he really have any in-depth knowledge on. But regardless of what this preying wolf was conspiring, Suigetsu knew that he would only satiate his carnal needs and go on with his plans to kill the shark anyway. He had no heart to be diverted by lust and intimacy. Maybe this Reaper always posed as a lusty distraction to the enemies of his organization? He was really divine-looking. The possibility wasn't out of the question, but even as difficult as it might have been for someone else to destroy one as easy on the eyes, the boy credited to be a prodigy in the art of murder wouldn't have thought twice about chopping that attractive head off. As for that silly-looking stick with three blades. Oh, right, a scythe. He really wouldn't have any use for such a pathetic weapon, so he would merit nothing more than the satisfaction of having slept with the devil and killed him all at once. If this guy thought he was 'impossible' to murder just because he was good-looking he'd have to think again. But oh-so painfully good-looking. He didn't even know his name and already he was screaming it in his head.

'You fuckin' heard what I said.' He motioned with his scythe for the other to sit down once they had travelled a fair distance away from the battle scene. 'You seriously look happy about corruption. If you're clever, my Jashin, you'll know this is all worth your while. _You especially_.' A glint of diversion was visible in his eyes, which were also violet, but a few shades darker than Suigetsu's own.

'Mn, I'm still waiting to see your weapon,' he said, attention detouring from the man's face and wavering lower to where the 'weapon' would inevitably be located. That he was content in wielding such a lame-looking scythe, he must have been painfully endowed elsewhere. Oh, no, these perverted thoughts just wouldn't stop.

'You'll see it soon enough,' replied the Reaper coolly, somehow appearing oblivious to the way the sharp-toothed boy kept staring at his crotch.

He wasn't the brightest of guys, and needless to say, probably didn't possess the wit required to execute master plans of manipulation. But he did have his own scheme conjuring, only it wasn't as simple as his equally platinum-haired counterpart was imagining. Upon taking a seat beside the piranha, he manoeuvred a hand within his own cloak to remove an object. It was cylindrical in shape, but he didn't hold it out long enough for the other to get a detailed look. Placing this small tube of sort aside, he caressed his chest in a way that would appear nothing short of seductive to anyone watching, fingertips grazing the round pendant attached to his necklace. But he didn't stop in this endeavour there either. Another of those perverse smirks manifested just as he allowed his cloak to slip down his shoulders entirely, revealing several partially healed stab wounds along his ribs and abdomen. Judging by the nature of the wounds, he must have really been a resilient guy to have survived being injured in these areas. One of them was located dangerously close to the heart, perhaps even directly over it. Yet, he grinned and even poked at one of the sores, eyes glazing over briefly with that similar morbid delight he displayed when his hand had been bitten. There was no doubt that this was a freak of nature just like the other Akatsuki members. Although, it was seemingly undeniable that he was showing off his trophy scars like any tough man would to impress a would-be lover. And the sheer need to disrobe himself made him appear beyond ready for action.

'Very soon, I hope.' He grinned broadly upon noticing the object removed, assuming it to contain some form of lubrication for the activity they would be involved in shortly.

He considered telling the man that such wouldn't be necessary with him as he could provide lube of his own using his water-based technique to sleek himself for penetration. But it didn't really matter. Either way, he was eager to experience the bodily pleasures this Reaper was offering. It was such a shame that one as divine in looks would have to die anyway afterward. The leader would never see him killing this battered freak, and the thought of ripping his mate's head off like a praying mantis turned him on to no end.

'Fuckin' perfect.' Tilting in rather close, the Reaper narrowed his eyes to inspect the pointy teeth of the other, one hand positioned beneath the boy's chin to pry the mouth open slightly.

Inevitably, taking this as an initiative for a precluding lip lock, Suigetsu also drew nearer accordingly, lips parted yieldingly to receive that beautiful scythe-wielder's tongue. An arm trailed outward slowly to embrace the opposing shoulders, eyes drifting shut, pulse fleeting even quicker now. Though, just seconds before his mouth could establish contact with the other's, he felt a sharp pain to his nose, realising only too late that his seductive counterpart had struck him in the face with a palm, literally shoving his head away from his own. He didn't understand why right away, but he fathomed that such a loose wolf wouldn't fancy kissing, which only confirmed his assumption that he was prone to such acts of detached lustiness. After getting this riled up, he didn't want to think that he wouldn't be getting any release.

'Seriously, what the fuck?' The Reaper's expression had turned from whimsical and tempting to downright revolted. He swiftly pried the arm away, pushing the 'offender' further from his form. 'I didn't bring you here for you to act like a goddamn heathen. You should be ashamed of yourself -- what was your name again?'

Confused and embarrassed, Suigetsu squinted and put on a disarming smile, idly rubbing at his face where he had been hit. It had been hard enough to leave a temporary welt, but he was used to getting knocked around by Karin all the time. Taking a palm to the nose was nothing. It was the deflating way his ego was now bruised that stung him the most, especially after he had raised his hopes so high of having a spirited sexual encounter with this enticing scythe-wielder. And heathen? What was that about? It was clear that this might've been a zealot of some sort, and perhaps making out with those of his own gender was against his religion. The thought sickened him to a degree. He had always found attraction towards other males, and even his own leader struck him as appealing -- not enough to fall in love with, of course, but at least enough to where seeing that four-eyed woman constantly swooning over him bothered him extensively. He didn't find the thought of men sleeping women desirable in the least. It brought up all sorts of images of babies and life, things that he sought only to kill. If this scythe-carrying weirdo was tainted with homophobic tendencies, he would take extra pleasure in murdering the mosquito once their discussion of weapons was over.

After having disclosed the requested information, he all but rolled his eyes in annoyance, wiping some of the excessive dampness from his skin. Oh, how he disdained that freak now. 'Gonna show me your weapon yet?' he said, not bothering to conceal the bitterness in his tone. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to steal it anymore, particularly after its former owner had been such a narrow-minded bigot.

'Well, that's why I brought you here, isn't it?' The previously appalled expression had again changed into one of those perverse smirks, but it wasn't having the same effect anymore. One hand reached to take a hold of the tube he'd set aside earlier and he unravelled it slowly, revealing it to be none other than a scroll. As he grasped one of the boy's own hands, he placed the paper within it, faintly caressing the other's knuckles as though he still had the audacity to pretend he was flirting. 'Read it, Suigetsu. Read it and you too will know the secret weapon that is Jashin.' He spoke in a soft, nearly alluring tone and the grin that followed resembled something other than perverted for once. It was an utter look of sadistic ardour that was written over those comely features.

Eyes widening momentarily, Suigetsu scanned the contents of the scroll, though scowled once he caught on that this scythe-wielding dogmatist was actually suggesting he join in on his homophobic creed. Thus, he shook his head and threw the scroll back at its owner, positively disgusted by this 'weapon'. He would have gladly scolded him for such backwards beliefs, but in turn he'd be admitting that he had wanted him for his one-off lover. No, not anymore. All of the perverted thoughts were gone by now. He didn't even wait for a response to his own rejection, instead lunging himself at the buffoon, teeth viciously sinking into one of his shoulders the moment he'd pinned him down. It didn't take long for the other to hurl him off, in fact, not even long enough for him to taste the sweet plasma needed to send him into one of his crazed killing frenzies. Within a matter of seconds, he found himself beneath that scarred idiot, thrashing and writhing while the obviously stronger man pressed him against the ground with more vehemence. The physical closeness inevitably roused him again. Lower limbs instinctively bound around their counterpart's waist, hips thrusting upward to connect with the man's groin in a vigorous grind as though he could still sway him into participating in this supposedly 'sinful' act of sodomy prior to going for the kill. Oh, yes, he had his own methods of 'corruption' too. The dim-witted zealot would die knowing he'd acted the 'heathen' in his final moment.

A rather loud groan escaped the Reaper with the increased stimulation applied to his nether regions, although it was the sharp sting to his shoulder that only managed to enhance his own arousal. It wasn't like he was numb to these feelings, and momentarily lapsed into an involuntary urge to nail the leach right through the ground. But he couldn't succumb to it, no. Acting the heathen was the last thing he wanted to ever do. And it wasn't only the act of sodomy that was a sin to his religion, but all acts of coitus were forbidden. Jashin promoted celibacy. There was no way this sleazy little heathen was about to get away with pressing him into sin. Nearly reluctantly, he pried the legs away from his midsection, flipping the boy over onto his back as he situated himself on top of this lusting whore.

'Oh, my Jashin… And I thought you were actually competent for conversion. Seriously.' He grasped a handful of pale locks and yanked them harshly, which forced a shrill yelp from the other. 'Yet, all you are is a filthy fuckin' heathen! I ought to sacrifice your bitch ass now!'

'Why should I be sacrificed?' Suigetsu seethed under his breath, eyes shifting frantically as he glanced to his captor. 'Because your Jashin preaches against having sex with other men? Is that it?' He had heard of some faiths that practised these bigoted philosophies, resentful to have fallen prey to such discrimination. He then closed his eyes and hissed lowly, already believing to know the answer that would come.

Instead, the Jashinist retorted with a sinister cackle. 'Of course, but Jashin also preaches against having sex with women more so. We don't need the complications of spawning or having to deal with paying homage to the living body. We believe in nothing but utter destruction. That's why I thought you'd be qualified for my religion. _Sixty-seven dead_,' he repeated fondly. 'Any Jashinist would exalt you for such a deed. But since your head is in the fuckin' gutter, I seriously can't say I can give you the same appreciation now, Mizu.' He smirked at his nickname for the water demon, also referring to the liquid that was still dampening the hair in his grasp. Releasing it gradually, he dishevelled it in a nearly stroking manner. 'Unless you can learn to kill your wanton urges…' He smirked and removed himself from the boy's back, turning him over so that he would be facing him directly. 'Do you want to follow the path of Jashin, Mizu? It's not everyday I see such blessed killers. Hey, I even overlooked the bitchy way you got knocked on your ass by Kisame. You should be grateful. Any man would pray for the chance to have rubbed his crotch all over the prophet -- and still been given the chance live after.'

'Prophet? This is retarded.' He sat up and smoothed out his mussed hair, eyes skewering towards the scroll he had rejected a few moments ago. If he was perverted enough to have believed it was lube then maybe he was nothing but a wanton heathen. Paying homage to the living body? He had never thought of it that way. But at least it made a lot more sense to him than his initial assumptions. Again, he couldn't help feeling awkwardly stupid. 'Ok, if physical pleasures are such a sin, I don't see how you Jashinists make it without going insane.' He would have suggested that maybe they practised castration, but undoubtedly he had sensed the evidence of a full arousal when he had gotten away with this act of 'rubbing his crotch all over the prophet,' and it tickled him to no end that he could induce such a reaction from this celibate 'prophet' man as he called himself. 'You're not even allowed to jerk off? That wouldn't be paying homage to anyone but yourself. But wait -- are you even alive?' He knew it was a dumb question, but suddenly found himself staring at those scars again. They appeared significantly fainter even now. Could this have been a zombie? Anything was expected when it came to those freaks of nature in the Akatsuki.

'Depends on what you mean by "alive" -- if you mean in the literal sense, then no. But I bleed and feel just like any other living person. Seriously, you would _know _that by now.' One of those perverted-looking smirks soon appeared, though he ignored the inquiries about jerking off. 'I've never been one to claim sanity, but it just so happens that I experience an insane amount of "physical pleasures" as you put it.'

'How?'

'By dying over and over daily…' He inhaled deeply as though getting visibly high just off the thought. 'You thought it was fuckin' funny, I bet, when I said I can't become a carcass. Haha, I've died so many times, if I could turn into a carcass -- I would've already been one ages ago.' He poked one of his wounds again, wincing only slightly this time. 'I thank Jashin for having had the privilege of dying today. Too bad you weren't there to see it. Turns out the fuckin' heathen was a spawner to top it off. That's what we call those freaks who bear life into the world. Men who succumb to the urges of fucking women. You don't harbour these types of urges, do you, Mizu? Because if you do, I will have no choice but to rid of a damn spawning sinner like you. Our world is infested with enough heathens as is -- we don't need anymore.'

Shaking his head immediately, Suigetsu would have never expected to hear such words from a man he'd only moments ago been ready to accuse of being a homophobe. 'No, no, never. I think you'd tell just by my actions before that I have no urges at all to touch a woman.' He left out the part that he couldn't have prevented himself from being attracted to the divine man, but he already guessed that such compliments wouldn't be taken kindly.

'You never know -- some guys go for both. And those are the worst kinds of heathens.' He picked up his scythe and cast it over his shoulder, carefully toying with the rope at the end of it as he had been when he first laid on eyes on that killer swordfish. 'I know what you're thinking -- my looks are to kill for, aren't they? You can stare all you want, seriously, but don't touch. ' He paused, grinning as he caressed the pendant around his neck. 'Actually, I'd rather you didn't give me those lusty looks at all. No, not you, Mizu. I want you to be my disciple. You're not allowed to harbour sinful thoughts.'

'Do I have a choice in the matter?' He smirked in a playful way, and was almost tempted to try and kiss the prophet again, though grudgingly resisted those wanton urges.

'No.' He then rose to his feet rather swiftly for one who was reputed for being the slowest member of the Akatsuki, clutching the boy's arm to pull him up as well. 'I'm attracted with you extremely, not the way you'd want, but I'd be a fool if I let the child prodigy in the art of murder go astray without ever learning the way of Jashin. Maybe one day you'll learn the pleasure in dying and you'll quit lusting like a fuckin' heathen. How many guys have you rubbed your crotch all over as of late? Besides me, of course, but I'm seriously hoping that was the last time you ever act like such a sinner again. As tough as I can admit it must be to resist this…' He let go of the pendant only to trail his hand further down, caressing his abdomen before he stopped just short of his waistband. The blasphemous erection hadn't gone away just yet, but he wasn't a heathen to suffer the pain of going with no release. In fact, it only ensured he would have more pent up frustration to fuel his next sacrifice, which he knew would be soon.

'If you're so against screwing, why must you keep teasing? I wouldn't have acted like such a heathen if you hadn't tricked me into thinking you wanted my body. The way you--' He gritted his teeth and looked away, knowing that if he saw that boner, he'd have another one of his own and the last thing he wanted was to be caught brewing blasphemous thoughts again. 'Oh, dear, please, put on your cloak…. Er...'You look like a heathen.' He didn't even know the man's name yet, but he would have to ask for it eventually. After all, it would be useful to know his prophet's name if he was going to be his disciple.

'Haha, maybe there is some hope left for you after all,' said the Jashinist, snatching the mentioned article of clothing from the ground, but he wasn't putting it on just because the water boy had told him to -- No, he took orders from no one, not even his Leader most of the time. But he was getting discomforted in his hetaeristic appearance, as the promising Jashin apprentice had so cleverly pointed out. As for the accusation of teasing, he didn't even care. If it meant exposing people for their heathen tendencies and causing a reason for sacrifice, he would keep doing it, but they all found out soon enough that it never went in their favour. Checking the other over intently, he stepped closer and darted a hand unexpectedly over his groin, feeling for a rigid giveaway. After not finding one, he let go, amused horrendously by the boy's shocked reaction to just having been groped. 'It seems that your urges die quickly. Maybe I'm not appealing enough to you?' He feigned a captivating tone, expression bordering on suggestive prior to it distilling into grimness just as quickly. 'Before you get all happy again, I think you should know -- Jerking off isn't really a sin, but if you keep doing it you'll never cleanse your mind of wanton thoughts.' With that he slipped an arm around the piranha's shoulders . 'And another thing you might wanna know is my name. Hidan. Remember it 'cause you'll be screaming it later. Again, not the way you want, Mizu.' He smirked at the distorted look, mussing the damp locks again and only cackling when he had the invading arm knocked away. 'But anyway, how about we check on that battle? I'm sure we've missed a lot of carnage. Dear Jashin, the blasphemy!'


End file.
